Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
He nodded to the cigarette lighter and shifted the truck into reverse. When he looked over his shoulder, he threw a hand onto my headrest, and I got my first real look at him. Wild and unshaven—he had the sort of beard that started before it was trendy. There must be something in the Louisiana water, because he was as huge and muscular as Dario. He wore a loose-fitting T-shirt, his facial features still hidden behind the brim of his cap and that beard.
I plugged in the phone, watching as a battery symbol flashed on the screen. It was almost dead, and I glanced over at him. “Glad to know you’re prepared.”
He smirked. “Glad to know that you’re grateful. Now, allons.”
He finished backing up and dropped his hand off the seat, popping the truck into gear. A phone rang, and I watched as he lifted his hip and fished another black flip phone out of his pocket. I tightened my grip on mine and didn’t feel so snubbed anymore.
“Hey podna.”
The caller spoke and I straightened at the sound of Dario’s voice, recognizable despite the muffle. I leaned in a little to try and catch the conversation.
“Your beb, she a pain in the ass.”
I didn’t know what beb meant, but I understood pain in the ass just fine. I huffed out a curse and looked out the window, watching the lights of the runway grow smaller. The truck bounced over a rut and I grabbed the handle, holding on.
“I know. Don’t worry, brother. I take good care of her.” He ended the call and glanced over at me. “He’s worried about you. You’ve got a good man there.”
I turned to face him. “Have you known him a long time?”
He laughed, and it was big and hearty. “Oh yes. Me and Dario, we are like brothers. He’s a coonass, same as me—though you can’t tell it from those suits and da fancy accent he spits.”
“Did you ever meet Gwen?”
The smile dropped as quickly as it came, and he watched the road for a long moment before answering. “Nah. I seen her from afar. He didn’t like to mix his worlds. And she…” He shook his head soberly. “She had enough evil in her life already. Didn’t need no Cajun spirits entering into that. He kept her away from us. Prob’ly good he did.”
Cajun spirits. He spoke of them reverently, as if they were real, and a blanket of unease settled over me.
“I’d like to speak to him. Is his number in this phone?” I turned the Motorola over in my hand and opened the top of it, struggling to use the menu.
“Nah. Give the man some time. He’s got a lot of fires going right now.”
Fires? I thought of the crime scene. Her foot. The blood. What was he telling the police? Did they know I was there, that I found her? My parents popped into my mind and I fought the urge to dial their number, one of the few I knew from heart.
“Let’s talk ‘bout your rules.”
Rules. My back stiffened at the word.
“No talkin’ to anyone, other than me. No calling anyone. If that phone rings, you can answer it. It’ll be the boss man, checking on you’s. But you don’t call anyone, got it?”
I nod. “Got it.”
“I’m serious. No getting yourself killed with cooyon shit.”
“Cooyon?”
He sighed. “It means foolish, stupid.”
On another day, I’d have snapped at him and dialed my parents, then the boys, and maybe my roommates.
But it wasn’t another day. I watched the passing of big branched trees that lined the dirt road. His truck slowed and I watched a dog run across the road, his ribs visible, tail tucked. I curled my knees to my chest and thought back to that Vegas suite, and how close I came to dying.
This wasn’t a game. I thought I knew that before, had weighed those consequences a week ago, but had I really understood? Right now, my friends would believe that I was dead. My parents. What would that news do to them?
If I had been in that suite instead of Gwen, and looked down the barrel of a gun, would I have regretted my love for Dario?
I probably would have. I probably would have stood there and begged for mercy, given him up and promised to never see him again.
Love wasn’t worth dying for, not when death could be avoided, not when two souls could part ways and each carry on long and healthy lives.
But we hadn’t parted ways and that decision had killed her. I stole her husband, then stole her life. I did it all and then ran away, to this cooyon truck, in this cooyon swamp, and regretted it all.
I rested against the seat, closed my eyes, and asked Gwen for forgiveness.
ROBERT HAWK
Robert Hawk walked down the dark hall, his steps confident in the dark. At the room at the end, he opened the door without knocking, pleased to see the thin figure at the window. He stepped inside and stopped, crossing his arms over his chest. “I just spoke to the police. They confirmed Bell Hartley’s death.”